


Wear You Out

by twisting_vine_x



Series: Scratching Out A Life [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Last Night on Earth, Light D/s, M/M, Tears, Top!Kenma, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7599751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The night before the mission, and neither of them can sleep.</p><p>- - -</p><p>
  <i>They can't ever lose this. They can't.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And then Kenma's hand slides down into his pants, and Kuroo jumps, and then buries his face against the side of Kenma's neck. His fingers are just a bit too cool, in the damp room, but Kuroo doesn't care. Kenma always feels like the best thing in the entire horrible world. And when he just barely touches him, Kuroo has to swallow a whine, already feeling like he's about to squirm right out of his own skin.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Kenma.” It's already begging. He doesn't care. He doesn't have to. “Kenma, please just –”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Just wanna make sure I wear you out properly.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>There's a rasp to his voice, but he says it like it's simple fact. Like taking care of him is all that matters. And Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, his veins catching fire all over again.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wear You Out

**Author's Note:**

> (For the context of this fic, they have previously discussed safewords and limits.)

Kuroo's not sure how long he's been staring into the darkness.

Across the room, Bo and Keiji's breathing has long since evened off, dropping the room into silence. Even Kenma seems to have finally fallen asleep, curled up against Kuroo's chest. His cheek's pressed over Kuroo's heart, and Kuroo can imagine what he looks like, even in the darkness. He doesn't need to see Kenma to know. Kenma's face is so burned into his mind, it'll probably be the last thing he sees before he dies, regardless of whatever is actually happening in front of him.

The thought rolls a wave of nausea through him, and he shudders, tightening his grip on Kenma.

He's not allowed to think like that – and most of the time he _doesn't_ – but with the darkness, and the concrete all around him, the tap drinking slow and monotonous on the other side of the room – it's all too easy to start sliding, when the nights get like this. What he needs is to _sleep_. He'll be no good tomorrow if he doesn't. He's meant to be leading one of the teams, with Ukai in charge of the other, and he can't be stumbling around in a sleep-deprived haze. If they manage to secure the park tomorrow, they'll all be able to move back above ground. They'll be able to see the sun. They might even be able to grow food.

The thought makes his teeth grind worse.

Too high. The stakes are way too high. Either the teams are dying tomorrow, or everyone in the base is getting a chance at a better future. And he feels like someone's cut him open and lit up every single one of his veins with fire. He's pretty sure he's never been this terrified in his entire life.

What if they fuck it up?

It's like the thought physically grates across him, and he must flinch, or make a noise, because Kenma swallows, suddenly, and... it doesn't sound sleepy at all. It doesn't at all sound groggy, and Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his grip further, hauling him close against him. Of _course_ Kenma would pretend to sleep. They both know that Kuroo can never fall asleep until Kenma does.

“Can't sleep either?”

He keeps his voice at barely a whisper, but the words are scratchier than he'd intended. He sounds a lot more _scared_ than he'd intended, too. And Kenma doesn't react for a moment, until his fist curls into Kuroo's shirt, coming to rest right over where Kuroo's heart is helplessly rabbiting behind his ribs.

“You need to sleep.” Kenma's whispering, too, and his voice is remarkably steady, but Kuroo knows how to read every bit of him. He knows how to hear the waver there. “You need to sleep, you –”

“I know.” He _does_ know, too, and he carefully buries his face in Kenma's hair, inhaling the scent of him. They'd managed to acquire some hot water earlier, but he'd want to be close to Kenma even if he was a greasy mess. “I know, I just... my brain, it won't fucking shut up, I don't know how to –”

“What can I do?”

It's still a whisper. Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut a bit tighter.

_Run away with me. Run away to some world where none of this horror exists._

They can't, of course. And he wouldn't leave everyone else, even if he could. But all he wants is for Kenma to be _safe,_ and he'll _never_ be, not while they're here, not while those monsters are –

Kenma's palm pressing flat across his stomach shuts him up. Shuts him up, and has him inhaling so sharply he makes himself flush with it, certain the noise will carry right across the room.

“Kenma...”

Kenma's still moving, though. Sliding his fingers down to play with the bottom of his shirt, just barely ducking underneath to brush his skin. Kuroo barely swallows a whine, every inch of his body suddenly lit up. Fucking shit. All Kenma has to do is look at him and Kuroo can't think any more.

“Yes?”

It's still barely a whisper, and Kuroo swallows, because there's something stuck in his throat. And it's not the shared quarters part. The four of them had all come to a mutual understanding on day one that discretion was the better part of valour, and that each couple would just try to ignore what the other got up to in the dark. It's more that he already feels like a single gentle touch from Kenma could break whatever composure he's holding on to, and he's not sure if he can cope with that.

“Kuroo –”

“I... I dunno if – if I can.” He barely chokes it out. There's a horrible stinging in his throat, and it feels like terror. It feels a lot like he's already lost something, even though Kenma's still in his arms. He doesn't _want_ to go tomorrow. “You... you're gonna make me cry just _talking_ to me, let alone –”

“That's fine.”

Kenma's voice is wavering around the edges, but he's not stopping, he's not slowing down, his small body settling against Kuroo as he slides on top of him, moving like he's afraid that Kuroo is going to break; and Kuroo _does_ whimper, this time, as Kenma's light weight just barely presses him down into the mattress. He feels like he could float away at any time, and Kuroo's shaking as he holds on tighter to him.

“Kenma...”

“That's why I'm here, Kuroo. You – you're always so strong. And you don't have to be around me.”

For a moment, the words don't register. Then, Kuroo can't do anything but swallow as his eyes start watering, all the fight just seeping out of him as he lets himself sag down into the mattress. He doesn't even need to say anything. Doesn't need to make a single sound. He can already feel Kenma moving, reading the consent in every exhausted line of his body, like he's directly linked to Kuroo's brain, which just makes him _ache_ inside – and then Kenma does pause, just for a second, and Kuroo's quick to nod against his shoulder, before he buries his face there, his skin burning hot.

They can't ever lose this. They _can't._

Kenma's stopped moving, though. Hovering there over him in the darkness, like he's hesitating, and Kuroo's just opened with mouth when Kenma's fingers brush along the skin of his stomach.

“Are you sure? We can always find some other way to wear you out, you know.” His voice is very soft, almost lost in the dark, but the sincerity there makes Kuroo's gut hurt. “You can... I don't know, piggyback me around the base, for a bit, or I can go find one of our old volleyballs, or –”

Kuroo shuts him up with his hands against his waist, gut twisting tighter at how massive his hands feel there. He hears Kenma suck in a breath, too, and Kuroo's heart is pounding as he presses his mouth against Kenma's cheek, feeling the heat radiating off his skin as he manages another little nod.

Kenma can do whatever he wants. Kuroo's safe here.

And Kenma lets them hang there in the darkness, just for a few seconds longer, before his fingers dragging soft and aching along Kuroo's stomach again, before sliding down into his pants, and Kuroo jumps, burying his face into Kenma's neck. His fingers are just a bit too cool, in the damp room, but Kuroo doesn't care. Kenma always feels like the best thing in the entire horrible world. And when he barely touches him – just gently drags his fingers over his cock, like he's feeling the way Kuroo's starting to harden, his breath shuddering out of him with every little touch of Kenma's fingers – Kuroo has to swallow a whine, already feeling like he's about to squirm right out of his own skin.

“ _Kenma.”_ It's already begging. He doesn't care. He doesn't have to. “Kenma, please just –”

“Just wanna make sure I wear you out properly.”

There's a rasp to his voice, but he says it like it's simple fact. Like taking care of him is all that matters. And Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut tighter, his veins catching fire all over again, even as the stinging behind his eyes suddenly gets worse. And maybe Kenma senses that, because there's a kiss against his cheek even as Kenma pulls him hand right back out of his pants, taking that touch away, and Kuroo can't do anything about the way that his voice comes out so just fucking _desperate._

“ _Kenma –”_

“Shh, it's okay, I'm not going anywhere.”

His voice is a gentle breath against Kuroo's cheek, the word so soft it almost hurts, and Kuroo sucks in a breath and tries to stay still, though his heart's beating a desperate rhythm against his ribs.

Then, Kenma's leaning back and working Kuroo's pants down until they're trapped around his thighs, giving him pretty much no movement at all. It all makes him shiver, again – he feels even _more_ helpless, suddenly – and then Kenma's hand finds him in the darkness, resting against his cheek as his thumb rubs across his lips, and Kuroo shudders as his mouth opens. It's like he's wired to do whatever Kenma wants, and he can hear Kenma suck in a sharp breath as Kuroo licks his palm, following the unspoken instruction there. They've always had this give – it goes both ways, it always has – and tonight Kenma seems set on slowly breaking him apart, silent instruction in every tiny little touch, along with enough gentle concern to leave Kuroo feeling like he's shattering.

Kenma must know how badly he needs this. Must know that Kuroo needs to let someone else do the thinking, for once.

Then Kenma's touching him, again, wrapping his fingers around his cock and finally giving him the touch he needs, and Kuroo shudders at the new dampness, at the soft slide of Kenma's palm along his far too sensitive skin, but – Kenma's lips on his chest are even more dangerous than his fingers. Because Kenma's kissing over his heart, right through his shirt, and Kuroo... it's like something inside him is cracking. Like he can feel something shatter, leaving him clutching as Kenma as Kenma wiggles even closer underneath the blanket, hovering over him and pressing him down as he drags his fingers in that damp slow slide around Kuroo's dick and simultaneously presses kisses all across his chest. They're tiny little butterfly kisses, so fucking innocent compared to what his hand is doing, and it's burning Kuroo up from the inside out, making him fall in love all over again.

He can't die tomorrow. He _can't._

“Kenma...”

“I told you, Kuroo.” It's still quiet, but Kenma sounds rattled, in a way that probably no one but Kuroo would be able to hear, and that's _terrifying_. “You... you don't need to be strong around me.”

The thought, and Kenma's words, leave him feeling cracked open, drawing a desperately vulnerable chill down his back, and he realizes that he's shivering, clutching at Kenma. Shivering all over, like someone's doused him in ice water, the tension inside him coiling tighter as the desperation inside his chest swells bigger and more horrible, like one thing will be enough to rip him apart for good, and he should be _scared_ of that _,_ but – Kuroo _doesn't_ need to hold it together, here, he _knows that_ he doesn't, because Kenma will catch him, he _always_ catches him. Every time Kuroo falls apart, whenever he cracks when there's just the two of them to see, Kenma always puts him back together.

It's still a little scary. He's definitely got tears in his eyes, and he's trying to rock into Kenma, but he's not coordinated, he can't move well enough with the way Kenma has him pinned, and he realizes that he's panting, realizes there's something like panic in his chest, because he – he needs to come, but this _can't_ end, because if this ends then tomorrow comes, and tomorrow _can't_ happen.

“You're okay.” Kenma's voice is soft, and steady, right against his cheek, and Kuroo sucks in air like someone's punched him, even as Kenma's lips brush across his skin. “Do you want me to stop?” His hand slows, just barely, and Kuroo can't shake his head quickly enough, his pulse spiking when Kenma still pauses, barely breathing, until his thumb slides to rub in a slow circle underneath the head of his cock as he brings his lips to Kuroo's ear; and then Kuroo's pretty sure that the whole base is going to be able to hear how rough his breathing is. Everything feels too hot, under the blanket, he's pretty sure he's going to sweat right through his clothes, and Kenma's fingers are tightening, now, like he's done teasing, just the right speed and tightness, because Kenma knows every inch of Kuroo's body, by now, he knows _exactly_ how Kuroo likes to be touched – and that thought, more than anything, leaves him reeling, his voice cracking out of him on a helpless whine.

“Kenma -”

“You're coming back tomorrow.” It doesn't sound like a question, but it doesn't sound like an order, either. It just sounds suddenly frantic, but like Kenma's trying very hard to _not_ sound frantic, and Kuroo suddenly feels too big for his own skin, like there's no air in the room. “Whatever happens, you – you're the strongest person I've ever known, and you _will_ get through it, I _know_ you'll –”

Kuroo's orgasm hits like a punch, burning up through him at Kenma's words, and he knows that he's making noise, with Kenma bending down to kiss him and his cock jerking under the perfect press of Kenma's fingers, even as his heart keeps hammering out a desperate rhythm against his ribs. It leaves him arched up under Kenma, his blood hammering in his ears, and then he sags back down onto the bed, with Kenma already curled up on top of him like all the strength has gone out of him. They're definitely both shaking, and Kuroo needs to tighten his grip around him, but he can't move.

_You're coming back tomorrow._

Fuck. _Fuck._

Of course he is, though. How can he not, when has this boy to come home to?

He only realizes that there are tears on his face when Kenma finds them in the darkness. It's like he'd known to look, his fingers brushing soft against his skin. And Kuroo barely opens his mouth – his voice is just _gone,_ he can't seem to speak at all – when Kenma ducks down to press his face against Kuroo's shoulder, like he's trying to hide there. It makes Kuroo's gut twist – just like that, the wave of protectiveness is enough to steal whatever breath he has left – but Kenma's already speaking.

“I... I'll do everything I can, from here. We'll get you through it safely. Anything I can do, I'll –”

“And I - I'll come back. I promise.”

His voice is easily as fucked as Kenma's, but he means it, with everything he has.

It's not like he has any other option.

And when Kenma swallows and lets himself rest heavier against him, Kuroo finally gets his arms working enough to wrap back tight around Kenma, squeezing his tiny body against his own. He gets a slight whine for that, as though that's still not close enough, and Kuroo hauls him closer, his eyes falling shut even as he slides a hand down Kenma's back, fingers just barely dipping under the back of his shirt.

“Want me to...”

Kenma's already shaking his head. Pressing his face closer, and shaking his head against Kuroo's shoulder, his tiny little, “Like this,” almost lost between them, even with how closely pressed together they are. Kuroo hears it, though. They can stay just like for as long as Kenma wants them to. Anything Kenma wants, he can have it, he –

“Go to sleep, Kuroo.”

It's still soft, and it's not really an order, anymore – it's more just like Kenma's trying to soothe him into listening, his nose brushing Kuroo's neck as his fingers stroke across the back of Kuroo's hand, before he reaches down to carefully tuck Kuroo back into his pants – and Kuroo sucks in a breath and lets his eyes slide shut, the way they want to. His limbs all feel like jelly, and – now that he's actually noticing it – he's pretty sure that he could sleep for at least a week.

And he doesn't say anything. Just nods, and finds the strength to roll them sideways, gently nudging Kenma down beside him as Kuroo wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. He gets a sigh out of Kenma for that, as Kenma curls up in his arms like he's always meant to be there.

He is, after all. And Kuroo doesn't want to be anywhere in the world but right here.

The thought makes his stomach twist, and he tightens his grip, pressing his nose into Kenma's hair and sucking in a breath as he lets his eyes slide shut, focusing on the sound of Kenma's breathing. It's comforting, in the darkness, chasing away some of the ghosts, and Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

Kenma believes in him. Kenma needs him. Like fuck is Kuroo dying in some zombie infested hell pit.

He'll get tomorrow over with, and then he'll come home to Kenma, where he belongs, and they can start building a new life together.


End file.
